Two simple words.
Alone they are negative.
Together they mean something sincere.
Can we still call it sincere?
Have we made it toxic?
Or, possibly is it truly the context.
If so, can I say I'm sorry?
You probably hated me that day, the day before your special day.
I'm sorry I lied I wasn't only jealous, actually I'm scared for you.
I understand you have others but are they real.
I guess I been unsettled with these rain clouds.
I don't want to lose you.
Tell the others I'm sorry for shaming them.
I want you to ask yourself are they hangouts, or are they ride or die and do they comfort you.
You know what's funny about pain its always there.
You can say you ain't seen hell like theirs.
You could say you couldn't imagine their loss.
However, all my life I never got to hold anything.
Hell is a funny place really.
So many years I never felt chill, I been stuck in it.
Life is horny.
It can and will always keep fucking you.
You may think a few bad things make me give a damn.
They only visit hell, however, I live here.
You told me don't assume.
Prove to me they are real.
Are we still childhood friends, or let me rephrase do you seen me as a close friend?
I been pondering am I second rate.
Whose been there?
You showed me that anyone is above me to you, but I'm sorry.
I worry too much.
I pushed you away.
I was told to stay back and let you feel pain and learn.
But, I refused.
I can't because I like you.
You might say I'm a brother.
But, I like like you.
More than a sister.
I should have pressured you to check.
However, you chose to delete.
It was a confession, my confession.
We aren't ready.
Would it scare you if I told you I am ready to see the father?
I guess I'm done.
But, stop the world I'm ready to get off.
I feel crazy.
It feels like there is a war.
Red, blue, and even white.
Red was my anger, from you calling me a toxic friend.
Blue was the rainclouds, I wanted to get off the world.
White is my peace, the glue.
I started like a compound, but now I'm an element.
I saw the rain clouds.
I know I was an ass.
I understand this isn't an apology.
Well, probably not the best.
You probably still hate me.
For what it means I'm sorry.